


the cw in cwspn stands for castiel winchester

by cascountsdeansfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Engaged Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, I hate tags, M/M, Sarcastic Castiel (Supernatural), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, pure fluff, smart ass castiel, theyre getting married omg wow no way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cascountsdeansfreckles/pseuds/cascountsdeansfreckles
Summary: Cas smiles bemusedly, gesturing for him to continue. “Ijustthinkyoushouldchangeyourlastnametowinchester.”Cas blinks.“Did you just speak Enochian?” Dean glares at him, eyes narrowing, and damn-if looks could kill. But they can’t, so Cas just bites his tongue.“I said,” Dean draws it out, slow and pronounced, natural belligerence overpowering the nerves now, “you should start going by Winchester.”
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 151





	the cw in cwspn stands for castiel winchester

**Author's Note:**

> dt: dcl and as always, xiola
> 
> didn’t edit didn’t have a beta i just vibed with it so y’all know the drill, lmk if there are any horrible spelling mistakes or missing words.
> 
> comments are appreciated as i survive on the validation of support from strangers on the internet <3

“We’re going to the courthouse today,” Dean tells him. As though he doesn’t know. Cas looks up at him, a dry smile playing on his lips.

“Is that today?”

“Shut up.” Dean sits on the edge of the table, twisting his engagement ring around and around his finger. Cas doesn’t think much of it; Dean has been a nervous bundle of energy ever since the proposal. Even though the extent of their wedding planning was deciding a day that they should go to the courthouse and sign the papers, Dean has become a bit of a bridezilla (but Cas learned the hard way that he does not find it humorous when that is pointed out to him.) 

“No, it’s good that you reminded me. I’d totally forgotten,” he pokes again, leaning back in his chair and setting his book on the table.

“You’re an asshole. Just let me say what I’m trying to say here.” Dean completely takes the ring off and begins to roll it back and forth along his knuckles without effort. It’s distracting, but Cas spreads his hands in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. “I know that you don’t technically have one. So this shouldn’t be so damn hard for me,” he breaks off, letting out a sharp breath. “And we’re already getting married anyway. It’s not that big of a deal, I guess. I dunno.” Cas stares at him as he talks in a circle, feeling almost as though Dean has forgotten he is there. “I wasn’t going to say anything but then Sam mentioned it and I just hadn’t thought about it all that much…” Dean slips the ring onto his finger again and rubs at the back of his neck.

He was barely this nervous to actually ask Castiel to marry him. 

“Do you want to practice this in the mirror first?” he interjects, an eyebrow raised. Dean socks him in the shoulder so hard that he almost feels it.

“I preferred you before you learned sarcasm,” Dean says. Cas smiles bemusedly, gesturing for him to continue. “Ijustthinkyoushouldchangeyourlastnametowinchester.”

Cas blinks.

“Did you just speak Enochian?” Dean glares at him, eyes narrowing, and damn-if looks could kill. But they can’t, so Cas just bites his tongue.

“I said,” Dean draws it out, slow and pronounced, natural belligerence overpowering the nerves now, “you should start going by Winchester.”

Oh. Cas feels his vessel begin to heat up around his face. He looks away from Dean. It only takes him a moment to place the emotion that is festering in the pit of his stomach.

Even after all these years of feeling, Cas struggles to forget the eons he faced with indifference. He’s gotten better at dealing with and portraying his emotions, sure, but recognizing exactly what he is feeling still frustrated him.

This feeling, though, Cas is used to. He feels it all the time; when he is fumbling through a video game or tripping over his borrowed feet. When Dean teases him, lighthearted as it usually is. He is embarrassed. 

“Cas? You’re kinda makin’ me nervous here,” Dean interrupts his thought process. When Cas tries to look at him again, his gaze only makes it to Dean’s hands, where he is twisting the ring once again.

“You’ll turn your finger green,” Cas warns him softly.

“Huh?” He can practically hear the frown in Dean’s voice. “Oh.” His hands go still. Cas drops his gaze to his feet, hating the warmth of his cheeks and the fit his insides are throwing.

“I’ve already been using Winchester,” he admits.

“Oh,” Dean echoes. Cas tries to decipher his tone as he studies his shoelaces with great interest.

If figuring out his own emotions can be frustrating, placing Dean’s is next to impossible. Over the years, Cas has learned to use body language to help figure out what Dean is feeling. Folded arms mean he’s defensive, whereas fiddling hands mean he’s anxious. If the line between his eyes deepens but the rest of his face remains impassive, he’s in deep thought. When he is angry, his jaw tightens and he stiffens, draws himself up like a soldier.

But Cas can’t bring himself to look at him now, so he has no idea what that small ‘oh’ means.

“For how long?” Dean’s voice is measured. That’s not usually a good thing. Cas cringes, briefly considering flying to Canada and not returning. Maybe he’ll change his name to Geoff and make a living in ice fishing.

“Couple months,” he mutters, his gut wrenching with the confession. Whereas his face feels like it’s on fire, his stomach feels like ice. He’s overwhelmed with emotions that he doesn’t recognize at all, which frustrates him. Frustration. He knows that one pretty well too. “Before you proposed.”

“Castiel,” Dean says softly, in that way that tears Cas apart from the inside out. At first he hated himself for it. And then he hated Dean for it. Now, when he knows how rarely Dean is as gentle as he can be with Cas, it makes him want to cry. He looks up at him.

Dean is smiling. Ear to ear. An absolute shit eating grin. His stomach stops tying itself in a knot. His chest, which he hadn’t even realized was hurting him, loosens considerably.

“Castiel,” he repeats. Cas frowns. Before he can respond Dean continues, “Winchester. Castiel Winchester.” Then, impossibly, his grin widens. “That’s sexy.”

Cas lets out a relief-drunken laugh, grabbing his book and slapping Dean’s arm with it. Glad to be over with the unpleasant storm of emotions that had been brewing inside of him, he feigns nonchalance. 

“You’re dressed like a hobo. Are you wearing that to the courthouse?”

Dean gasps in mock offense, but he swings his feet a little, and Cas recognizes his Send Noods socks.

“Go change,” he orders, cracking his book open and pretending to be able to read. He’s too dizzy. The words swim in front of his eyes. “I’m not marrying you in those socks.”

Dean hops off the table, plants a kiss on the top of Castiel’s head, and half skips out of the room. Cas smiles.


End file.
